


Restrain, Connect

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Secretary (2002)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee and Edward enjoy a quiet evening at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restrain, Connect

**Author's Note:**

> Woolly Socks is brilliant, lovely and amazing. 
> 
> Written for lyrebard

 

 

Lee had been waiting for Edward to come home for quite a long time, and he was late. He drove into the driveway with his headlights blazing, parking sloppily in the drive, a sure indicator of a bad day at the office. 

Edward sat in the car for a few moments, composing himself while she stood by the door and waited for him. Dinner was warm on the stove, and the house smelled of warm bread. Edward crossed the threshold, and was smiling as he kissed her. "Hi," Lee smiled, arms behind her back. "Would you like to eat now or later?" 

"Now, please," Edward said, loosening his tie. She set about setting the table, while he placed his briefcase in its customary place. He walked around the dining room closing all of the blinds as Lee poured the wine. 

And when she was almost finished, he came behind her and undid each button of her blouse in order, slipping it and her bra off together and letting them lay in a heap on the floor. Lee smiled as she lit the candles, letting the excitement pool between her thighs. "I missed you," she said. 

"And I missed you," Edward murmured, settling in his chair. He did not talk during the meal, and chewed his green beans quite carefully; and she found herself caught up in watching him, simply glad to be near him. He had such a wonderful mouth, her husband. She could see the stress coiled in his shoulders as he leaned over to brush hair from her face, and he ate so slowly. Of course she did not squirm in her seat. 

When he had finished, Edward helped her bring the plates to the kitchen, putting them to soak in the sink. He closed every blind that he walked past, but kept his eyes on her. Lee waited a few moments after the napkins were in the laundry, but leaned in close to him, resting her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. "How was your day," she asked as his fingers stroked the small of her back. 

He was quiet for a moment, holding his breath, "Horrid," he frowned, and held her. They stood together in the kitchen with his shirt buttons biting into her stomach and her breathing getting shallower until she shivered with the chill of the air on her back. "Put on your red lipstick," Edward murmured, smiling. 

Lee walked into their bedroom, grinning, and did nothing but apply the lipstick. Just enough to cover her lips, and carefully. When she returned to Edward, he was uncoiling a length of rope, pretending not to notice her. Once he had the rope laid flat on the table, she leaned over and quickly kissed him, undoing the top button of his shirt. 

"Lay down flat on the table, on your back," her husband commanded, his voice low. He waited until she was in position, then slowly slid her skirt and panties from her legs, stroking as he went. They ended in a pile out of her vision, and Edward was panting, rolling up his shirtsleeves. And Lee was already so wet, her thighs were slick with it. He placed a cloth napkin under her thighs, so as not to damage the table, and was very careful to keep from touching her pussy. 

Her husband had stopped smiling in his focus as he bound her wrists above her head, precisely to the right tension. Her wrists were secured with more rope to the underside of the dining room table, at the catch they used to add more leaves, and then he moved to her leg. Each foot had a length of rope tying it to a table leg, knees bent exactly at the edge of the table. Lee could feel her breath evening and quickening all at once, and smiled quite happily at her husband. She did not need to test the bonds. 

Edward leaned over and kissed her gently, careful not to smudge her lipstick, and arranged her hair on the table. Then, keeping eye contact, he removed his tie and doubled it over in his hands. He struck with fast strokes, all over the outside of her thighs and up the sides of her waist, red pinstripes and sharp stings that quickly faded. She quivered with sensation, careful to keep from making sound although he hadn't said she couldn't. 

He kept at it until he was panting a bit from exertion, sweating a little. Lee felt fluttery, a bit outside of her body but grounded by the scratch of rope at her wrists and ankles. Edward kissed her again, less carefully, and moved down to nibble her neck. Took off his shoes and socks, his wristwatch, his belt. 

At the sight of the belt, Lee could feel her pulse increase with steady precision, and her fingers stiffening. She was suddenly aware of the cold table at her back, and the slight bit of discomfort where her head was resting. Her husband took the belt in his hands, too intent in his task to be smiling. He bent the belt in two, and held it at the buckle. 

The first strike was a blossom of pain at her left hipbone, and quickly matched at the opposite. Lee inhaled sharply, gasping a little. The next was just a bit downwards, and the next a bit down from that. She loved the sound of it, the leather against her skin, and the way that her husband would study where it hit before placing another stroke. She loved the feel of it, the weight and the sting and the way that she could never quite catch her breath before there was another, and Edward standing so tall above her, haloed in light. 

He whipped her until the entirety her thighs were red from it, and her hips, and across her stomach. Edward paused for a bit after that, leaning over to kiss her again. And she could feel where he was hard against her thigh, but she couldn't move to do anything about it. Lee realized that she was panting, and so desperately wet, and her husband kissed her lips and chin until she was nearly drunk with it. 

Edward's eyes were hard with intensity when he turned back to stand above her, and his hair was a bit mussed from running his fingers through it. He took the belt again, tensing his lips to a line. "You can make as much noise as you need to," he said, and put force behind the next stroke. 

Lee couldn't help the gasp that left her lips, or the way her body arched into the next blow, fighting the rope. He was hitting her with nearly full force, enough to leave welts were she was already so sensitive, and she found herself unable to keep track of time. Her thighs were about to combust with it, and her head was throbbing from where she had accidentally slammed it against the table so many times. And Edward was above her, unrelenting. He hit her until she was groaning with every blow, tears in the corners of her eyes. 

She was more used to the spankings, and she wished that he would turn her over and do that instead, or that he could take a break, or that he would hold her, or that he would pause a bit longer in between strokes. She lost count after the fortieth blow or so, but her body just felt so free. Like Edward was the only thing holding her to the ground. 

He paused to give his arm a rest, laying the buckle heavy on her navel, and grabbed at her breasts. Twisted the nipples viciously, until she was whimpering and arching involuntarily from his hands, and then soothing them with his mouth. Her husband leaned over and kissed her again, smudging lipstick from her mouth to her chin and licking the tears from her eyes.

"Ten more," Edward commanded, pulling ahead again. "Count them out." He put full force behind each stroke. 

At the fifth, she was sobbing. Wailing at the eighth. 

Lee screamed the tenth, her body ablaze, and did not miscount at all. Edward dropped the belt on the floor, and stood close to her head, smiling. Her body was quivering with tension and need and pain, and he stood beside her and stroked her face. "Good girl," Edward said. 

But his eyes were frantic too, and he undid the rope holding her wrists to the table, impatiently. Edward kept her wrists bound, but pulled her by the hips until her pussy was waiting at the edge of the table for him. He still hadn't touched her, and she was desperately throbbing. His fingers shook, almost fumbling as he undid his fly. "Lee," he gasped, "Lee." 

And Edward was so hard inside of her, hard like he only got on the worst days. He was in her up to the balls, groaning; but wouldn't move after that. Lee wanted to wiggle or scream, and to take his face in her hands, but they were bound. And smiling, her husband took a free hand and began stroking her clit in fast circles, grinding a little inside of her. And it was too much, and she was already so wound up, and Lee came all over him in hard spasms, whimpering. 

"Good girl," her husband gasped, and began to move. It wasn't for an especially long time, or even especially hard, but her thighs were burning and he kept the thumb circling her clit. When she looked up, she saw his face. Edward was smiling through the focus and the fucking, smiling at her. And Lee kept her eyes on him, just on his face, as he fucked her until they were both panting and she was nearly sobbing and they came together. 

Edward rested his head against her breasts for a few moments, catching his breath. And she wished she could stroke his hair, but her muscles were liquid and she couldn't move for anything. "Good girl," he murmured, absently kissing her collarbone. 

Lee relaxed under him, barely paying attention as he untied the ropes at her ankles and wrists, gently rubbing the circulation into them. He picked her up and held her against his chest, though, and she loved the feel of his dress shirt against her cheek. Edward placed her in the empty bath tub, smiling, and fixed the water to the right temperature and let it all fill up around her. 

"I love you," she said, drowsiness making it no less true. Her husband smiled and removed the rest of his clothes efficiently before climbing into the bathtub behind her. 

He kissed her, and his thumbs stroked her eyebrows while he did it. She was liquid for him, floating. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. Her chest ached with it, and she leaned into his arms as he cleaned her so tenderly. Lee leaned into him as he dried them, greedy for his touch. 

"I love you," she repeated, burying her face in his neck. His arms held her close to him, and he gently rubbed her back as he did, putting them to bed. The sheets were white and so clean, smelling just like him. 

"I love you, Mrs. Grey," her husband said, tucking them under the covers. Lee lay beside him, grateful for the warmth and the weight of him. Lee was just so absolutely content, dreamy with so much of it; and when she looked up to him, Edward's smile was perfectly satisfied. 

 


End file.
